


To Come Undone

by Lazy_Laziel



Category: Warehouse 13, Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Cancer, Crossover, F/F, Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazy_Laziel/pseuds/Lazy_Laziel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Helena Wells wakes up in an unfamiliar place she starts to wonder what happened to her, but that's the least of her worries. When a woman shows up to give her a gift, it starts something that could change everything. Or nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Come Undone

The diner was fuzzy. At least Helena thought it was a diner. She hadn’t been inside many after the bronze, but it fit the stereotype. Long counter, dolled up waitress. An old trucker drinking a cup of coffee. And it was all so white and polished. Everything was also hazy, like a mirage. She looked down at herself, or tried to. It took a few moments for her body to catch up with her mind, as if she was under water.

Drugged maybe, she managed to think. Or drunk. But it didn’t feel quite like that. She had had her share of encounters with paralyzing effects and nothing had felt like this. Everything was just… slow.

She was wearing clothes however, tough they looked as fuzzy as the diner. Not that it mattered. She could have handled herself just as easily without them, but it was still a comfort.

She looked back up, the same slow response annoying her just a little before she pushed it aside. _How had she gotten here_ , she wondered as she observed the diner, cataloguing everything. _And were was here_?

She went back to the last solid thing she could remember, getting home from work, and started from there. Eating dinner with Adelaide and Nate. Helping Adelaide with her homework, recent American history ironically enough. She hadn’t had a clue, but she thought she had managed to guide her to discovering the answer on her own. Then reading while Nate watched TV. Going to bed. Spending a vigorous hour having quite enjoyable sex before going to sleep with his arms around her.

And then… and then nothing. She looked around the diner again, then out the window. There was a parking lot, a long road that curled out of sight with a forest on the other side of it. And above it all the sun shone without a single cloud to block the rays. Idyllic.

Her mind worked, spinning theory after theory about what could have happened to place her here. A criminal she had helped put away? Had the Regents done something? And after the 27th theory it finally clicked.

“Ah,” she finally said to no one, just a little bit surprised when her voice actually came out. “Lucid dreaming.” It was a skill she had researched a long time ago, the idea that she could shape her dreams at will having been an interesting one. However, she had stopped doing it shortly after becoming somewhat proficient in it.

She had learned quite quickly that dreams were much more interesting when they weren’t being controlled.

She stopped herself from letting her mind wander to the dreams after Christina. Not even Lucid dreaming had given her respite from her dreams then, sometimes making it worse.

Still, it happened to most people every once in a while, so she might as well enjoy it. And a diner was not the way.

The techniques came back to her without much effort and she closed her eyes, imagining a beach with white sand, sparkling blue water and a fruity cocktail just waiting for her. Then she moved herself to the image and opened her eyes.

The diner still had the same clientele, the same décor. It still looked fuzzy and there wasn’t a grain of sand in sight. It was… disconcerting. She should have been on that beach right now, basking in the sun wearing a nice swimsuit. But instead she was still were she started. She frowned just a little before trying again, then harrumphing when she opened her eyes to see that she was still in the diner. This was not how her lucid dreams usually went. And it was a dream, she was sure of it now. Too many little things adding up. Maybe if she tried something else, like a mountain top, then she-

The bell above the entrance chimed and the diner snapped into focus. The fuzziness was gone, along with her slow movements, and she furrowed her brow. Nothing was happening the way it should. Then she looked up at the entrance. Maybe the woman who was now walking towards her could give her an answer.

She was tall, probably quite a few inches above her own height, with long hair that was a few shades darker than her own. Dressed in leather with bronze details, something that should have made her look like something out of a fetish catalogue, just looked good on her. And with that walk, even deadly.  

The woman had subtle muscles under tan skin, which in turn melded perfectly with the dark leather, and it all served to make those ice blue eyes stand out. Eyes that certainly had her pinned to her seat.

 _My subconscious_ , she thought as the quite attractive woman came to a stop next to her booth, _is extraordinary_.

“Hello, Helena Wells,” the woman purred with a voice that actually sent a small shiver rushing down her spine. “Let’s talk.”

Helena raised an eyebrow. “And you are?” The woman might be looming over her, and she might look great, but she didn’t let that faze her. This was all part of her dream after all and despite her earlier problems, she was in control here.

“You know,” she responded with a chuckle. “That is actually a good question. Who I am is easy, I’m Xena. Who I am to you is trickier.” She scratched her head for a moment. “Since I’m here to give you a gift, let’s go with friend. For now.”

“Xena?” she said slowly, tasting the name as Xena slid into the seat on the other side of the table. It wasn’t exactly an elegant name and hardly something she’d normally come up with. “Now why would I name a part of my mind, any part of it, something like that?” She murmured.

It wasn’t quite enough, earning her a blank look and then another chuckle.

“Oh, have you got it wrong,” Xena said. “Though I can see where you got the idea.” She raised a fist that looked weathered, and surprisingly strong. It wasn’t the hand of someone spending a lot of time inside.

“First off,” she continued as she raised a finger. “This isn’t a dream. Not exactly. Think of it as Limbo, or Purgatory.” Another finger came up. “Second, I’m not a figment of your over active imagination. I’m an actually, living person.” She paused. “All right, so I haven’t been alive for 2300 years, but that’s semantics.” And one more finger. “Third, I don’t care about what you’re thinking right now, that it’s impossible, that I’m still just a piece of a dream trying to fool ya. I’m here to do what a higher power asked me to do and then I’ll let you go back to hiding.”

Helena blinked. There had been a bite in her tone that rankled her just a little. Especially that last part, though she chose to ignore it. “So you’re what, dear?” She replied with an edge of her own, a mocking one. “An angel sent by God? To punish me for my sins perhaps?”

Xena let out a sharp bark of laughter that made Helena rear back an inch.

“The One God?” Xena finally managed to wheeze out. “I wouldn’t lift a finger for that piece of horse shit. Bastard got me pregnant without even saying hello first. And didn’t that get me kicked out of our bedrolls for a week? No, Helena. Nothing so mundane asked me to come.”

Xena took a drink from the wooden mug in her hand and let out a happy sigh while Helena narrowed her eyes. That hadn’t been there a moment ago, Helena was sure of it. But before she could ask, a delectable scent hit her nose. She looked down, finding a cup of tea sitting in front of her and her senses was telling her, no, screaming at her, that it was in actuality a perfectly brewed cup. Another rarity since waking up from the bronze.

“However,” Xenas voice drew her from her inspection and she looked up. “If we’re to continue this conversation I suppose it’s only fair that you know _my_ golden rule. ‘What Gabrielle wants, Gabrielle gets.’ And she wanted me to meet with you.”

“Gabrielle?” Helena asked.

Xena stared into nothingness for a moment and her face softened, all the while the gentlest smile Helena had ever seen on anyone spread over Xena’s lips.

“My bard,” she said, which was somehow enough. The emotions in her voice were conveying what mere words could not. Even the sun seemed to shine brighter through the window, if only for a moment. And Helena’s mind shied away, instinctively knowing that delving deeper would cause her to think of situations, and people, she didn’t want to. Instead she took a sip of her tea, which was perfect as she thought, while Xena continued.

“I was ready to write you off after you went into hiding like a scared rabbit, but she insisted on this whole thing after certain… events came to pass.”

Helena had admittedly been somewhat passive in the meeting, but when one was playing cards and somehow only had one to the other person’s five, it was usually best to simply observe. Being slander twice changed the game however.

“I beg your pardon!” Helena practically hissed as she –almost- slammed her cup down on the table. “I am living my life and I am by no means ‘hiding’.”

“Sure,” Xena retorted. “And while we’re at it, we might as well pretend that Alexander the Great was a real person.”

“He was! And I am not pretending anything,” There was a moment’s pause. “I like what I’m doing, and where I am, just fine.”

“Ouch, just one out of three,” was the infuriating reply. “And they say you’re a genius?

“All right then,” Helena said as she leaned back with crossed arms. “Correct me with your wisdom, oh spirit.”

Xena rolled her eyes. This was supposed to have been a quick in and out, but thanks to her big mouth it looked like she would be here for a while. She almost missed the stoic person she had been millennia ago. Almost.

“Okay, we’ll play historians. Alexander wasn’t real. What you know as Alexander the Great is simply an amalgamation of several warlords that operated during that period. All of which would have made it through history just fine if it wasn’t for one particular warlord.” She took another sip from her mug and smirked. “As it turns out, people a few centuries down the road couldn’t stomach the fact that the most vicious warlord of them all was a woman. So they… edited things.” She seemed oddly proud as she said this.

“Oh come now, you expect me to believe that the man who founded the first Warehouse wasn’t an actual person?” Helena asked almost despite herself, the idea being so utterly ludicrous.

“Said H.G. Wells, the ‘father’ of Science fiction.”

Maybe not completely ludicrous.

“The victor writes the history, Helena. And time defeats us all in the end.”

“Who-“ She managed to get one word out before her brain focused and she stopped. She raised an eyebrow and stared at Xena. “You.”

“Me,” Xena confirmed as she put her mug down. “And it’s a tale too long to get into right now. Safe to say, I was worse than you. Why do you think the Warehouse was created?” Now she was almost preening. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t the sole reason, but I was a major one.”

“But my history is also why I know what you’re doing in Wisconsin. The people you killed, what you tried to do, it haunts you. So you want to make it right somehow.”

“Is that so wrong?” Helena finally asked, allowing the redirecting from Xena to herself. “To try and make up for my transgressions?”

“No, it isn’t. But redemption isn’t suddenly handed to you one day out of the blue. No giant voice saying ‘Thanks for not being bad the past few years. Here ya go, one ticket to the Elysium fields.’ It’s something you earn, every day from the moment you choose it to the day you die. It is one journey I’m intimately familiar with.”

“But this is all a moot point since you’re not even trying to redeem yourself anymore. You’re just wallowing in self-pity and punishing yourself by trying to play house with Nate and Adelaide,” she sighed. Then she murmured to herself. “I did something similar.”

“Don’t drag them into it,” Helena sighed. “They are wonderful people.”

“They are actually,” Xena agreed to Helena’s surprise. “Which is why your third statement was the truth. You do like were you’re at, and the people you’re with.”

“That’s… good,” she said slowly, just knowing that there was more to come. She was starting to get irritated now. She had been annoyed before, but now it was becoming harder to push aside with Xena pushing her buttons. They were even the right buttons, not that Helena even knew it consciously. She was however surprised, and pathetically grateful, that the annoying woman was refraining from invoking certain names, and one name in particular in this discussion.

“You decided to build yourself a prison Helena, but at least you furnished it well enough so you don’t even recognize it most of the time.”

“Right, my life is a pris-“

“Don’t!” Xena said with a raised hand, interrupting her. “Not here, not now. Just look at how you reacted when the Artifact showed up. You were starving for it. You have a job were you get to use your mind, but never stretch it. You could catch every criminal in Boone and it would never be as fulfilling as finding one single Artifact. Not for you.”

 “You cut yourself off from your family because you think they’re better off without you, no matter what that loss does to you. Not knowing what that loss does to them. You live with a man you like because you don’t think you deserve anything more. You _can’t_ deserve anything more.” Xena sighed. “‘Content’ is a harsh punishment when you know that happy is just around the corner.”

There was a thunderclap and Helena startled out of the almost hypnotic trance she had been in as Xena spoke. The sun had disappeared as they talked and now the sky was filled with clouds. Dark clouds, heavy with rain. Even the interior of the diner seemed darker. Colder. A single droplet hit the window. Then the sky opened up, the rain pounding the ground outside.

“You think you’re an addict,” she continued. “Endless wonder as your drug of choice. But you’re just a rider that’s fallen off a few times. The question is, are you going to dust yourself off and keep trying? Or are you going to keep lying on the ground?”

They sat there in silence, only the rain on the window making a sound. Helena seemed unfazed, looking collected as always, but underneath it all anger bubbled. And anger was good. Anger protected her. Wouldn’t let her feel the wounds the words had opened up.

When the accusation had first reared its head she had marshaled all of her arguments, ready to refute everything. She liked were she was. She enjoyed it. Taking herself off the board was the right choice, one that also gave her a sliver of peace. But the blows had kept falling, leaving her practically mute. Words that simply weren’t true of course. She was happy.

_A car driving away. A face. Green eyes looking at her._

She was happy damn it! She was, she was, she was!

So she clung to her anger, letting it cover up the cracks.

“Well,” Helena was the first to break the silence, her voice soft, not even hinting at the turmoil inside. “I do thank you, but as presents go that was fairly underwhelming. Still, I do appreciate the thought.” She took a final sip of her tea and then started to slide out of the booth. She might not be able to imagine herself away, but she could still walk.

But the cold laughter from the other side of the table made her freeze and she looked back. Xena was looking at her, anger, pity, sorrow, glee, every emotion possible sliding over her face and coloring her voice.

“Oh you poor soul,” she said. “That wasn’t your gift.”

The diner was gone, between one heartbeat and the next, and now they were standing in dim nothingness. An abrupt example to show her that she would be forced to listen to whatever was coming next.

“Our gift to you, Helena, is time.” Xena said as she started to walk around her, the voice echoing all around. She waited, knowing there was more. And the next three words flayed her mind open with an intensity that was surprising.

“Myka is dying.”

Helena wanted to gasp, to move, to shut her mind down. But she couldn’t, that damn voice not allowing her any respite, the words locking her muscles. Forcing her to take in every single word.

“Right now she is lying in a hospital bed, in the dark, surrounded by her family. Family by blood. Family by choice. And she is so. Utterly. Alone.”

“That is not true,” Helena finally managed to gasp. “She would have contacted me. Someone would have con-“

The laughter was mocking now.

“Maybe just coffee next time?” Xena said with Helena’s voice. “Or save the world.” Myka’s. “They were your words weren’t they? The rules of engagement  in a battle neither of you wanted.”

Helena wanted to deny this as well, but was there really any use? Her mind was laying her secrets bare one by one. If not to the world, at least to herself.

“She won’t call Helena.” Pity now. “She’s going in for a final surgery twelve hours from now. Her last chance. But she’s fading. Has seen it on the face of doctors that can do nothing to stop it, and all she wants in that moment, when she sees that look, is the person that for some reason would make the burden easier. The soul that makes her own happy.”

She could hear Xena sigh.

“But just for a moment, you know? She indulges for a fleeting moment before pushing it down. Because it’s not the end of the world is it? People die, she tells herself. And it would be selfish of her to take you away from your ‘happiness’. Because in the end that’s what really matters. To her at least. That you’re happy.”

A rusty dagger wouldn’t have hurt as much. She knew the bronze hadn’t.

“And that’s how she’s going to comfort herself before she goes to the other side, how she’s stopping herself from being scared. That her family will mourn her. That they will go on in the end, living good lives. And that you’re happy.”

She’s standing in front of her again.

“So this is our gift to you Helena. Time.” A heartbeat... followed by a small, almost comforting, smile. “And a chance.”

“C-chance?” The word breaks as it leaves her but she doesn’t care, brown eyes riveted on cold blue.

“Yes. I suggest you don’t waste it. For my Gabrielle’s sake. And for yours.”

She wanted to know more. To ask. To tear every sliver of knowledge from the woman’s mind. But things were fuzzy again, her vision narrowing. Then everything went black.

 

****

 

Helena woke up with a gasp stuck in her throat. She did not know where she was. There was darkness, small slivers of streetlight through the window only confusing things further. Her heart was pounding, a drum that harmonized with the rhythmic rain on the glass. She pulled herself upright in the bed, staring around the room, trying to find something, anything, to anchor her.

Then something stirred next to her and she looked over at Nate.

Nate. Good Nate. Wisconsin. Boone. She was where she had gone to bed only, was it just two hours ago? She was… home…

“Emily?” Nate asked drowsily, eyes not even open as he reached for her.

“Go back to sleep Nate,” she whispered softly. “Just a bad dream.” And he obeyed, sliding back into sleep while Helena just sat there, staring at nothing while stroking his arm slowly.

It _had_ been a bad dream. She knew that much. But not her usual demons. She could not recall Christina screaming for help. No bronze chaining her down. No shadows on her heels as she ran and ran and ran.

In fact, she could recall nothing but a maelstrom of feelings. Anger, fascination, sadness. Pure devastation.

She felt a shudder run through her. She tried to recall something of her dreams, but nothing came. Only the feelings. But feelings were to be mastered and no dream remnant would best her. She pushed it all away, willingly ignoring it all. After all, she had a long shift tomorrow and she needed her sleep. So she folded it up to a ball that sank to rest in the pit of her stomach. Not gone, but ignored for now. She had another 8 hours before she needed to be at work. Plenty of time.

She laid back down, closing her eyes as she listened to the music her heart was creating with nature. A heart that refused to completely calm down. But sleep still claimed her mind as it drifted, one last thought floating by before succumbing.

_I wonder what Myka’s doing?_


End file.
